


Or Demystify You with Words

by bertie456 (bertee)



Series: Bones: You're Lovely to Me [24]
Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 20:30:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/299752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/bertie456





	Or Demystify You with Words

"I don't see the point in us going on actual dates," Temperance pondered as she and her partner wandered through the crowds. "I mean, we've already slept together-"

Booth promptly choked on his cotton candy, while Brennan merely watched with interest, previously unaware that such an event was physically possible.

Dislodging the pink fluff from his windpipe, Booth whispered urgently, "We're in public, Bones. _Public_. Meaning where there are people. You don't need to announce to everyone that we've slept together." Continuing before she could argue, he added, "And dates aren't always about leading up to sex. It's just a chance for us to spend some time together." His arm encircled her waist loosely. "You know, as a couple."

Brennan frowned. "We do spend time as a couple."

"Yeah, between the sheets," he clarified with a smile.

"Oh." Booth's smile vanished as he saw a hurt expression wash over his partner's face. "I thought- I mean, I didn't realise that you didn't like what we were doing."

"Hey, no, okay, Bones?" He pulled her in a little closer as they walked. "That's not what I meant. I love what we've been doing. It's great." He planted a kiss on her hair. "You're great. And when we get back, I promise I'll show you exactly how great I think you are, but for now, let's just enjoy ourselves." Loosening his grip on her, he took another, non-choking, mouthful of cotton candy as he gestured ahead of them. "Besides, this is about me teaching you how to experience the fun of the DC carnival."

"By making me eat this?" she asked, eyeing the sweet, sticky mass of cotton candy with suspicion.

Booth sighed. "It's sugar, Bones, not poison." To demonstrate that the candy was indeed non-lethal, he took another messy mouthful of his own before giving her an encouraging, if not entirely candy-free, grin.

He may as well have smeared himself in cotton candy from head to toe judging by the look he received from his partner, who swiftly dropped hers in the nearest trash can with a smile.

As ever, Booth rose to the bait, saying with all the authority he could muster, "Bones, you are not leaving this carnival without having some cotton candy." He eyed the now discarded candy. "And I paid for that."

"Only because you bought it before I could stop you," she countered, effectively de-railing whatever guilt-trip he planned to take her on.

Foiled, Booth put on his best puppy-dog expression, "C'mon, Bones..."

"No," she said firmly as they walked through the maze of rides and brightly colored stalls. "I am not eating that. There is no way it can be good for you; that pink color is definitely not from a natural source, and that much sugar would caus-"

She was cut off as Booth, with all the skill and proficiency associated with a sniper-trained federal agent, pushed the cotton candy into her mouth mid-sentence.

"Moof!"

Unsure whether that was supposed to be 'Booth', 'Move' or an impression of an irate cow, Booth contritely removed the mass of candy and threw it in the trash too, leaving her with a full mouth and a fluffy pink moustache. The sugar quickly melted in her mouth, and Brennan swallowed it down before slapping him hard on the arm.

"Ow?"

"You could at least ask before just shoving it in my mouth," she replied, searching for something to remove the moustache, which looked like it belonged to a camp version of Groucho Marx. "Maybe then you wouldn't get it all over my face."

Against his better judgement, Booth couldn't help conjuring up a different scenario for that remark, and as the scenario became a full-blown (in every sense of the word) fantasy, he quickly focused his attention elsewhere. Catching her by the arms, he turned her to face him, meeting her eyes as he said with a mischievous smile, "Let me help you with that."

Before she could form a coherent thought, his lips met hers, the sugary flavor mingling between their mouths. Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the kiss, smiling inwardly when she felt Booth's tongue brush gently against her lips, removing all traces of the wayward cotton candy before letting his teeth nibble teasingly on her bottom lip. When they finally broke apart, she looked up at him with a soft smile and a bad impersonation, "What happened to 'We're in public, Bones'?"

They continued walking as Booth answered with mock-insult, "First of all, I sound nothing like that, and secondly, kissing in public doesn't exactly fall under indecent exposure." She felt his warm breath on her neck as he leaned in, speaking under his breath, "Of course, if I were to take you behind that Hoop Toss stall and lick something other than cotton candy, they could probably throw away the key."

Temperance's mouth dropped open, feeling the familiar throb between her thighs at his words, but he smoothly moved back to her side before she could tug him behind the stall in question and change the suggestion to an action. Seeing that he now wore an innocent smile as he surveyed the carnival before them, she elbowed him lightly in the ribs as a reminder that she wanted some variation of that promise kept that night.

He merely smiled again and gestured to the sprawling mess of bright stalls and flashing lights in front of them, asking simply, "So what do you want to do, Bones, given that getting arrested is out of the question?"

Giving the question more thought that was perhaps necessary, Temperance eventually settled on a stall tucked behind the red-and-blue big wheel. "That one."

Before Booth could argue with her decision, she set off for the stall in question and was happily weighing up a miniature cross-bow when her partner caught up with her, shaking his head at her choice, "What is it with you and weapons? Of all the things to do here, you've chosen the rifles, the pistols, the water-guns and now the cross-bows."

She looked up at him, blue eyes wide and misleadingly innocent given that she was clutching the cross-bow like a kid at Christmas. "I picked the Haunted House too," she pointed out, pouting slightly.

"Yeah, and you karate-chopped a ghost and would've broken Dracula's arm if I hadn't stopped you." He stepped up beside her and picked a weapon of his own. "Face it, Bones, you're just a violent woman." He handed two dollar bills to the young man in charge of the ammunition, saying with a friendly tone, "Three each please."

The man's eyes flickered between the pair of them nervously, rightly wary about handing three cross-bow bolts to someone described as a 'violent woman', but laid them on the counter nonetheless, before retreating for cover as he gave his sales pitch, "Two hits inside the target for a small toy, three for a large."

Brennan and Booth locked gazes, the unspoken challenge passing between them as they loaded their low-powered cross-bows with what were essentially glorified darts.

"Ladies first," she said with a grin, and Booth rolled his eyes.

"Funny." Nevertheless, he took aim first, squinting slightly before pulling the trigger and embedding the dart just outside the bullseye.

Five shots later, both Booth and Brennan walked away from the stall with very large, very cuddly penguins tucked under their arms.

Holding his squishy blue penguin at eye level, Booth stared at it with a sigh, addressing his partner, "You know, you are allowed to say 'no' when they offer you a prize."

Brennan cuddled her penguin defensively. "I don't see the value in turning down something that we won. It defeats the whole point of the game."

"And ordinarily, I'd agree with you," he countered, wiggling his penguin's flippers at her. "However, this is the fifth pair of toys we've won tonight and I don't think I can fit anymore in the trunk."

"They could sit on the dash," she suggested helpfully and Booth just looked at her in disbelief.

"I am not driving around with these things on my dash. I do have some pride, Bones."

"What do you want to do, leave them here?" she asked, aghast, hugging her penguin with an expression which told Booth that if the penguins weren't in the car, _he_ wasn't going to be in the car.

"Fine," he conceded reluctantly. "But so that my son doesn't drown in the zoo of cuddly toys that have invaded his bedroom, how about we do something a little less competitive next? You, know, like the big wheel, or the tilt-a-whirl, or the tunnel of love..."

That got Brennan's attention away from the penguin. "Excuse me?"

"The tunnel of love, Bones. It's a ride?"

"I'm sure it is," she replied, somewhat taken aback by his apparent crudeness.

Sighing, Booth gestured to the tacky white ride on the opposite side of the field. "A _carnival_ ride. Jeez, you and your dirty mind..."

Looking over at the ride, she glanced back up at him, pale cheeks flushed with embarrassment, "Sorry."

"Hey, don't apologise." He leaned in closer, his penguin nuzzling hers, as he said, "The fact that your scientific brain is even capable of having dirty thoughts is my favorite thing about you." His arm snaked round her waist and she smiled when she felt his fingers brush lightly against the side of her breast as he amended, "Well, one of my favorite things."

Not moving away from his embrace, she said teasingly, "Are you objectifying me, Agent Booth?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, Dr Brennan," he answered, his voice silky smooth in her ear. "Especially since you and Pingu there could kick my ass seven ways from Sunday if I tried."

"Pingu?"

"The penguin?"

"My penguin's called Pingu?"

"No, there's a TV penguin called Pingu."

"Oh." Brennan studied her penguin for a moment before looking up at Booth for approval. "Can I call mine Pingu? Or is that culturally inappropriate?"

Inwardly contemplating which was cuter - his partner or her penguin - Booth gave her a smile before moving back to non-cuddling distance. "You can call it whatever you want, Bones. Pingu's a good name." Deciding to seize the opportunity while she was absorbed in her penguin, he guided her over to a small wooden hut, about the size of a large playhouse, upon which was draped a sign reading 'Fortune Telling'.

Unfortunately, before he could usher her inside, the protesting began. "Fortune telling? Booth, it's impossible for anyone to be able to predict the future. All fortune tellers just make guesses based on observations of their customers, or give suitably vague predictions that don't mean anything."

Sighing, Booth met her eyes, a mysterious smile playing on his lips as he said, "Just trust me, alright, Bones? Carnival spirit and all that? You'll enjoy it, I promise."

For a woman who didn't believe in Christmas spirit, carnival spirit may have been pushing it, but Brennan acquiesced and allowed Booth to lead her inside, still clutching the penguin stubbornly. On the outside, the small hut was barely indistinguishable from a garden shed, but on the inside, nothing could be further from the truth.

Long lengths of shimmering material ran up the sides of the room, criss-crossing at the top before looping their way back to the floor, creating the appearance of a small, intimate circus tent. The ends of the drapes lay across the myriad of cushions on the floor, looking like sweeping brush-strokes from the palette of colors made up of the soft, oriental-style pillows. The only lighting came from a lamp under the low center table, which illuminated the cushions from ground level and cast long, twisting shadows up the exotic drapes.

Curious, Temperance slid her shoes off before parting the drapes and stepping carefully onto the mound of cushions, amazed at the unexpected beauty of the place. Hearing the sound of a key turning in the lock, she glanced around in confusion, registering the large crystal ball on the table, but no fortune teller. Booth made his way through the material as well, his socks slipping on the silk beneath him, and she asked, bewildered, "Are we supposed to read our own fortunes?"

He grinned, dropping his penguin to the floor and kissing her lightly on the lips. "Something like that."

Still confused by his behavior, she tried to pull away from his embrace, saying worriedly, "Booth, someone'll come in."

"Not through the locked door they won't," he said quietly, holding her to him. "I saw the fortune teller leave here about two minutes ago. No-one's going to disturb us." He moved in again, his lips almost brushing hers as he whispered, "Now, where were we?"

Before Temperance could answer the admittedly-rhetorical question, he captured her lips again with his, his warm palm resting against her cool cheek and his fingers sliding into her auburn hair while his other hand rested snugly at her waist. Feeling herself relax into the kiss and feeling Booth's tongue slip into her mouth, Brennan abruptly pulled away, backing off nervously.

"Booth, we can't do this here. Someone will hear, or see, or the fortune teller will come back, or-"

His fingers were over her lips before she could get anymore out, and his eyes met hers, steady and sincere. "No-one's going to find us, Bones; just relax." He moved his fingers and put his arms round her waist again. "Look, I know you've hated being at the carnival today-"

"I don't hate it, I just-"

"Temperance, the happiest I've seen you all day is when you were playing Whac-a-mole." She made no further objections and he continued, "It's okay not to enjoy it, alright? I just thought we should try doing something different together. Obviously the carnival is not your thing, but it means a lot to me that you came. Now please," He moved in closer, "let me make it up to you." His fingers brushed the inside of her thighs and he smiled as her eyes widened. "I did promise you'd enjoy it in here."

Not about to argue with that offer, Brennan let her penguin tumble to the floor as well, her hands moving to grasp the lapels of Booth's jacket and tug him closer toward her, kissing him thoroughly. Her arms moved around his neck, and she went onto her tiptoes to enable her body to press firmly against his, her breasts flush against his chest and their jeans touching from ankle to hip. As one of his hands came up to tangle in her hair, she used the opening to let her own hand drift down to his belt buckle, playing skilfully with the catch.

However, just before she could unhook it and speed up their little rendezvous, Booth caught her wrist, pulling back from the kiss and looking her in the eye, his voice low and husky, "No. This is about you enjoying yourself; I've had my fun today."

She raised her eyebrows. "You must really like your carnival games."

He gave her a half-smile, a glint in his eyes as he said slowly, "Well, maybe there is something you can do for me... Lie down."

Perplexed by the instruction, she obeyed nevertheless, sitting down on the cushions and finding a comfortable position as he knelt next to her, his gaze alone making her heart race in anticipation. Leaning over her, he kissed her softly on the lips, the dim light from the table falling across her features and making her delicate skin glow under his touch.

Hovering over her, he spoke softly, his voice more indicative of a request than an order, "This is about you enjoying yourself, so I want you to show me how. Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself the way I'm going to touch you." He stroked her cheek gently as she looked up at him, uncertain. "Tell me what you think about, Temperance. It doesn't have to be practical, or logical, or even possible; just say what you have running through that brilliant mind of yours when I'm not there."

Her voice shaky, she asked, with uncharacteristic timidness, "You want me to tell you what I fantasise about?"

He nodded, eyeing her carefully. "You think you can do that?"

"It might not be very... stimulating," she replied nervously but he just smiled encouragingly.

"C'mon, I've read your books. If you can conjure up something that steamy for your characters, I'm pretty sure you can manage it for yourself." She smiled but bit her lip anxiously. "There's no need to be embarrassed, okay? Just take your time."

Giving her a final kiss of reassurance, Booth shifted down to a position between her legs, asking as a prompt, "Where would you be?"

"We would be in the interrogation room," she replied quietly, surprising him by the confidence in her voice. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander back to familiar territory, the usual filters of modesty lulled to sleep as her partner ran his fingernails along the inside seams of her jeans, already causing a tightening between her legs. "The same interrogation room we've been in hundreds of times, with the black walls with the slanted design, and metal table in the center; the place where Dr Wyatt says you work your magic. Only instead of you being in control there, I am."

As she spoke, Booth's fingers edged slowly up her legs, and she inhaled sharply when his nails dragged a slow, hard path down from the bottom of her zipper. The pressure lightened as he continued to trace a path up and down, and she continued, her voice smoky with desire, "You're standing in front of me, with your hands on your head as though you're waiting for me to cuff you. I just walk around you, watching the way your ass tightens when I brush the base of your spine and the way you gasp when my nails trace the exposed skin above your jeans."

His fingers did just that and she shifted slightly, wanting the warmth of his hands on her as she spoke, "Your hands stay on your head until I tell you otherwise, and the position makes your shirt stretch open around the buttons, begging me to unfasten them. I'm not one to say no to you, Seeley; I'm never one to say no. Your eyes are closed as I slowly undo each button, letting my fingers brush against every inch of warm skin as it's exposed to me. Your shirt falls open when I'm done, and my hands smooth over the planes of your chest, feeling every twitch of your muscles and every beat of your heart between my own thighs.

"I let you put your arms down for a second and the shirt slides to the floor. But I'm not finished yet and you raise them again, the soft shadows in the room making me want to run my lips along every curve of your biceps and triceps as you stand before me. Seeing you shiver beneath my gaze, I let my fingers drop to your belt buckle, cold in comparison to your warm body, and unhook it, then undo your jeans, and you harden against my touch even through two layers of fabric."

Slowly, Booth flicked open the button of her jeans, before planting a featherlight kiss on her stomach and catching the zipper between his teeth. He dragged it down, his nose brushing the front of her panties as he did so, and she raised her hips upward, enabling him to pull her pants down and off her legs, leaving her lying before him with just a thin layer of silk between their lips. His warm hands cupped her ass, lowering her back down, and she felt her panties dampen at the movement, directing her mind back to her fantasy.

"Your jeans drop to the floor, and I push your boxers down with them. Part of me wants to wait, wants to enjoy removing them inch by inch while you bite your lip and try not to beg, but in the end I can't wait. They fall to the ground with your jeans, leaving you completely naked before me, and the sight alone makes me wetter than if I'd stripped you slowly." Booth swallowed hard at the narration, applying gentle pressure through her panties with his first two fingers.

"I let you stand for a moment, taking in every single part of you, while enjoying the sensation of being in control. Seeing you naked in front of me while I stand fully-clothed turns me on more than I thought possible, and as much as I enjoy the sight, I can never hold out for long without needing your hands on me."

Stroking her folds one last time through the sodden silk, Booth hooked his fingers into the waistband of the panties and slipped them over the curve of her ass, before tossing them to the side and positioning himself between her thighs. His fingers danced lightly over her hipbones as she rocked toward him expectantly, but didn't move past the patch of curls until her narration began again, her voice now shaky and halting.

"Your eyes open as you stand in front of me and your gaze holds mine for a moment as the balance of power shifts back in your favor. Your hands move from your head to mine, entwining in my hair and pulling me into a kiss while backing me up against the soft black wall. Your hands grab my ass through my clothes, but mine are free to roam your bare skin, leaving tiny white imprints as I squeeze your ass, feeling you press into my stomach as you arch against me, wanting a release.

"I squeeze again, harder-" Her words were broken by a gasp and a moan as Booth's lips descended on her, his tongue probing her folds before closing around her nub in a kiss. He stroked her slowly with his tongue, bringing her back to a steady ascent and letting her continue with her fantasy.

"I squeeze again, harder, and you push yourself against me as the kiss becomes deeper. The air is forced out of my lungs by your strong, hard body against mine-" She paused for breath, her breathing shallow as Booth ran his teeth gently along her lips. "But oxygen seems less vital than having your mouth against mine. Your hand moves to tug my skirt off and I rake my fingers across your back at the feel of you ripping my panties from my shaking legs.

"You growl in response, biting and sucking at my neck, and I almost come right there, just from the vibrations of your chest through my body. I can barely stay upright, but you grasp my wrists with your hand, pinning them above my head to hold me up and leaving me open to you." She let out a throaty laugh, combined with a whimper as his teeth grazed her clit. "You never waste an opportunity, Seeley.

"I hear the sound of my shirt tearing open, but your lips are on me before the cool air. You open the front clasp of my bra, and my nipples immediately harden as you push the cups away, wanting you to taste them. I kick my shoes away, stretching my body more as I stand on my toes, needing you against me, upon me, inside me-"

Another gasp broke the fantasy as she writhed beneath him. but his ministrations slowed. She finally realised that the point of his little game was to let her set the pace, and so pressed on, desperate for both mental and physical release. "Neither of us can wait any longer and your hand drops from my wrists to my ass, lifting me so that we can get what we both want. My legs wrap around your waist, both of us sleek with sweat, and you push me back again the wall, burying yourself inside-"

Between her legs, Booth followed her directions, sliding two fingers inside her and stroking her slowly as she let out a gasping scream, barely able to speak, "You- you thrust into me, and I meet you- ah- Your lips go to my breasts, and you suck, ah, hard-"

Her hips rose and fell, thrusting toward him in time with the strokes of his tongue. She closed her thighs round his head, leaving him unable to hear her words as he licked and stroked with zealous devotion.

Unable to stop herself now, Temperance continued, forming the words and fantasy fully in her mind, knowing that they no longer made it out of her mouth, "My whole body seems to tighten around you and I gasp as you move faster and deeper inside me. I can barely breathe, and tilt my head up, sucking in cool air that is instantly warmed by your lips on my throat. I look forward and see us in the mirror, my arms and legs wrapped round your body, your head nestled in my breasts, your mouth sucking hard on my nipples, and our bodies, glistening with sweat, pushing together until-"

The fantasy stopped. All thoughts ceased, replaced by nothing except the fireworks shooting through her body as she stiffened beneath her partner's tongue and fingers, surrendering to the explosion, the pounding in her ears, and the flashes of colors that lingered inside her eyelids.

As she regained the ability to breathe, she took deep, shaky breaths, noting that her throat was dry from screaming his name as she came, and she let her trembling hands drop to her sides, not even realising that she had been clutching the cushion under her head. Her legs slumped to the floor, spent, while Booth planted a soft, final kiss between them before sitting up and gently sliding her panties back over her feet.

Still breathing heavily, she sat up at the sensation, eyes widening as she seemed to remember Booth's part in the whole proceedings for the first time. Slipping her panties on hurriedly, she took her jeans from his hand, saying with a small smile, "Booth, I- That was-"

He interrupted her, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "Hey, I definitely didn't do all the work here." Wiping his mouth, he kissed her lightly on the lips before saying softly, "You did good, Bones."

Her smile widened, pleased by the memory, and she pulled her jeans on quickly, mindful of the possible reappearance of the fortune teller, who clearly hadn't predicted this. Feeling a aftershock run through her legs as she stood, she put her shoes on and grabbed her penguin before following Booth to the door.

Looking at her somewhat disheveled appearance, he asked, grinning, "Ready to go?"

She nodded, letting him take her hand in his as they left their own private world for the bustle of the carnival, and suggested casually, "You know, I wouldn't mind coming again next year."

Booth raised his eyebrows. "Next year, huh?" Leaning in closer, he said cockily, "Because I was thinking more along the lines of tonight."


End file.
